Hermione's Epiphany
by thisisfaycountri
Summary: Hermione looks back on the year she realized Harry really was a main figure in the war.


QLFC submission

Season 6: Caerphilly Catapults

Round 9, Chaser 2: For this round, we are focusing on the female characters from Harry Potter who played important roles in the story. (Hermione Granger)

Prompts: (word) harm, (quote) To light a candle is to cast a shadow. - Ursula K. Le Guin (word) evoke.

Word Count: 1,507

 **HGHGHGHGHGHG**

"It doesn't matter if they don't believe me right now, Mione," Harry had insisted, the first time I had brought up my idea. He didn't seem to care, though I knew that it was the very opposite. and it hurt me to see him hurting. So I'd suggested helping the students with their Defense work. I didn't care about my grades, I just wanted him happy.

Okay, that was a lie, too. But they were secondary to making sure the bone-deep hurt that Harry was hiding was focused into something positive. Harry had always thrived when showing me odd bits of defensive magic. He just needed a push to show anyone else.

When Umbridge started in on him, cutting into his skin as easily as the press had been cutting into his psyche, I'd resolved herself to, again, disrupt my schooling in an attempt to help my brother in all but blood.

What harm was a little teenage rebellion compared to corrupt government officials, raised dark lords, and death at every corner? It shouldn't have been a surprise to find Harry valiantly trying to stay afloat in this year's disaster.

So I kept asking and kept pestering. And eventually, Harry had relented to starting a defense club.

"So long as no one expects much. I'm not going to be that great of a teacher this year, I don't think," he'd told me tiredly the last time I had asked. He'd been propped over a bowl of Murlap essence, bathing his bleeding hand after a session with Umbridge. I set to work immediately, making the whole thing airtight. No one in without their permission, no one out without a serious vow of silence. Harry didn't think much of himself, but he didn't have to.

I had seen him grow. He wasn't the little boy that I had met on the train anymore, and that thought left me swelling in pride and tearing up in sadness in equal measures. Harry didn't have time for a childhood, didn't have time to grow up and learn that death and pain were necessary. He didn't get to ease into being an adult. At 15 he'd been forced into scenarios most adults had never had to go through.

He'd been almost amused at the accusations thrown at him in the gathering I had gotten together for the first unofficial meeting. Sure, they'd hurt him, but he had heard it all by now and then some.

The way the room silenced when he finally decided to speak up for himself was telling in itself. Harry didn't raise his voice. He didn't have to. He was a natural leader. He was plain spoken, a bit daft some days, hot-tempered, fool-hearted, and had a complete disregard for his own safety, but nobody, not even Voldemort himself, could ever call Harry weak, or cowardly. He protected who he could and cared for those he probably shouldn't. And that was just so aggravatingly Harry that entire rooms stilled to listen to him when he had something to say. Watching him stumble before he got into the rhythm of his speech, I could admit, if only to myself, that if something ever happened to my best friend, the world would be lost. Whether he wanted to admit it or not.

He'd stepped into the role of a teacher as easily as he breathed, and it made my head spin a little to think that he suggested he wouldn't be any good at it. People were singing his praises left and right and he would still insist he could be better. He knew exactly what to say to make someone just get the magic. Neville was thriving. The Creeveys were soaring to the top of their classes. Luna was more down to earth in the lessons, willing to listen to Harry's logic more than anyone else.

It was our last lesson with the Patroni that I really started seeing Harry's role in the war. I'd waited with the rest of the students because Ron and I hadn't perfected the patronus yet. Only a few of the older students had, and they were helping younger years when they could. When Harry finally gets everyone started, I'm confused to see him linger with a member longer than normal. Usually, he'd only stop briefly before moving on to the next student. Slowly, one by one, I watched as each student Harry steps away from has animals shooting out of their wands, prancing through the room. Rabbits. Beavers. Horses. Countless animals roamed the area as he made his way around the room, a proud, beaming smile on his face. I listened as he talked to Neville, and realized what he'd been doing.

"Alright Nev, your turn. Close your eyes for me? Good. picture yourself in Greenhouse One. You're kneeling on the ground. Your fingers are in the soil, you're listening to the plant's sing. You smell Honey and the trees, and the wet ground you're kneeling on. You feel that warm bubbling in your chest? The absolute contentment? Pull that forward. Got it?" At Neville's soft nod, Harry said something and Neville lets the incantation past his lips. A small light shoots out of his wand and his smile fades.

"I"m sorry Harry. Still nothing but mist."

But Harry grins, and he slaps him on the back a bit roughly.

"I don't know about that, Nev. All I see is a bee."

"What!?" Neville casts again, and sure enough, there's a glowing bee shooting out of his wand. He takes off towards Ginny and Luna, excited, and Harry's relaxed smile turns to Hermione. Ron's loud laugh in the background has me looking up to see his terrier chasing Ginny's horse, and I have to smile.

"Ready, Mione?" he asked softly, hand settling on my arm. I nodded, closing my eyes, curious as to what he will ask me to picture.

"You, Ron and I are out by the lake. The sun is out, but the wind is blowing. You're laying out on the blanket we've brought. Ron and I are bickering." I had immediately felt my lips twitch at the thought. I could already feel the warmth he was trying to evoke within me, that happiness that we were having trouble finding ourselves it seemed.

"It smells like Jasmine out. We can hear Fang, but stay where we are. I sit next to you, and Ron settles behind you and pulls you close."

I had stiffened at that in surprise. Surely he hadn't noticed?

But of course, he had. Harry knew everyone in this room enough to know what they needed to picture a Patronus, why wouldn't I be any different? I'd been so sure that I hid my crush on Ron.

"It's warm, can you feel it?"

I nodded in response, not trusting my voice.

"Go on then." he murmured, backing away.

I said the words, and when I opened my eyes, an otter was floating in front of me. He'd grinned at me before bounding to the dueling platform, and the animals died away as he gathered everyone's attention.

"That's everyone. Ready?" he raised his own wand and a stag jumps from it almost before he said the words. Countless other animals spring to life, lighting up the room as the lights dimmed.

Looking at his outline in the blueish white glow the animals were making, I was awed.

To light a candle is to cast a shadow. I'd read it somewhere. Even wrote it down, liking the sound of it. It was from a muggle book, I'm sure. I'd never understood it though. Not until then, watching Harry's straight posture and his determined look as he gazed down at his unintentional army.

Harry was our candle. He'd blasted a hole in the word impossible by the age of two. He was idolized and scorned. But he was the fiercest I knew in doing and protecting what was right. Regardless of how many people told him otherwise. He had sacrificed his childhood, would readily sacrifice his life, to help nearly anyone.

They didn't need to believe him right now. The spark was lit, and the candle would burn, regardless. Harry wasn't perfect, and neither was the light side of this war. There were things that needed fixing. But watching as he strode down the dueling platform to talk to someone, someone he'd spent enough time with to learn what they needed to evoke enough emotion for a Patronus, I realized that he would fix that, too.

He just had to get rid of the bigger Shadow first.

I squared my shoulders, moving to join him on the platform. He was my best friend and he might ask me, someday nearer than I would like to think, to leave him. I knew he had a sacrificial tendency. His saving people thing. But I'd hex him if he thought I was going to let him go out in the world alone.

Not when he and Ron both knew they'd be lost without me.


End file.
